Snapshot of You
by CelloAstro
Summary: AU. Mail Jeevas, a well-known, well-respected photographer is drugged and kidnapped in a bar by a creepy stalker with a thing for cameras. Inspired by the movie Captivity. Rating is subject to change. Discontinued for severe editing.
1. Chapter 1

AN- Okay, this is to hopefully hold you over until I finish editing Secrets, or whatever its new name is going to be. (I'm actually keeping most of it, just editing out some of the blares and polishing a few scratches. {okay, several scratches, but that's beside the point}) Please enjoy this small preface. Yes, I'm starting another multi-chapter. I actually have another one besides this going (not Death Note). Please enjoy this.

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**Preface- Step 1: Identify and Confirm the Target**

I watched him walk by, checking the photograph and description I was provided with to see if I had been tailing the right guy. These past two hours.

Bright red hair, goggles, striped shirt, jeans, camera bag. Walking briskly down 2nd street at 3:45 pm. This was exactly who was looking for.

I clicked a few keys on the laptop in front of me, activating the camera on the back. I snapped a picture, then clicked into a chat service.

_Is this him?_ I pecked out

A ping, signaling a reply. _Yes, this is him. Very good work, Mikami, come back home._

I closed the laptop and stood. Step one completed; my work was done for now.

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Yes, it's short. Kindly note that it's a preface.(Is that even the right word?)

I did not use a beta for this chapter. I hope that isn't blaringly obvious.

Reviews are ground into food for my plot bunnies. Flames are used for hater-flamethrower.


	2. Shots

Hello, everybody! Yes, I know that last chapter was reeeeeeeally short. I thought it was short. But it looked a lot bigger in my notebook. Maybe because I write big...

Anyways, enjoy this one!~

Chapter 1: Shots

I hate having an agent. They don't pick up when they need you to, call you at the most inappropriate times, tell people no when you say yes, yes when you say no, and all 'for the good of your job.

Yeah fucking right.

"Ukane, I've told you no a million times!" I yelled into my phone, "I told you, I can't go to the opening of this club, I'm doing some shots for some close friends!"

"Well, a lot of very important people are going to be at this club. This could get you a lot of publicity, probably much more than some unpaid-"

"I'm getting paid for it," I interrupted sharply.

He sighed, "Low-pay job for a couple of druggies."

"Matsuda and Ide are not druggies! Just because they're a little eccentric, and get high about as often as I do, Ukane, doesn't make them druggies! I swear to God, I want to fire you so badly!"

"Contract, Matt, contract. And those two are bad for business." I could taste the disdain in his voice.

"Screw publicity. I'm not going to this stupid club."

Ukane sighed again. I swear, he's got a daily quota for that. "You're being extremely immature about this, Matt. You are going to this opening if I have to drag you there myself. I'll pick you up at eight." And with his final confirmation, he hung up.

I let out a groan of frustration and shut my phone. I checked my watch; almost six.

A photo shoot can be completed in that length of time.

I re-opened my phone and hit speeddial.

"Oy, speak," a disoriented voice floated over the phone.

I just smiled. "Ide, you and Matsuda sober up as much as you can. You've got shoots in twenty."

I received a disgruntled "Hm" and a quick, off-the-line shout of "Matsuda! Clean 'em up, we got shots in twen'y."

In the background there was a reply of "Clean later. More sleep"

"No. Clean now," and, once again directed at me, "A'kay, Matt, see ya in twen'y"

I chuckled and hung up. Druggie friends, what can you do about it?

Was it terrible? Was it? I hope not. And I hope this held you over, because really personal issues are happening right now, and I need to get through that as best as I can before I write. Hey, maybe I'll write something pertaining to said events.

(People who ask for details on said events will be attacked by rabid zombies.)

Reviews feed the plot bunnies!~


	3. Step 2: Finalizing Plans

Yay, Chapter 3!~ Wow, this one took a surprisingly small amount of time for me to write. The administration office at my school must have creative vibes going through it. It probably does, because how else can they come up with the punishments they come up with in there?

Oh, and I've been forgetting to add a disclaimer. (Have I? I feel like I have...)

I don't own DeathNote. If I did, we all wouldn't need to write yaoi for it. I'm just saying.

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Mello's POV

B clicked off the speakers and turned in his chair. He was wearing one of his... smiles, if you could call what he was wearing something so peaceful. Well, at least it wasn't a sadistic grin.

"Teru," his cheerful voice made all of us shudder, except Near, little freak. I glanced over at Mikami. He was shaking. "Positively lovely job bugging that phone. Was it difficult?"

Mikami quickly jerked his head no. "J-just had to... Um..." he shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts under B's dangerously cheerful gaze, "I-I had to sneak into... the targe-"

"Matt," B prompted.

"Oh! Yes, M-Matt's apartment and... um... place the-the bug. Not d-difficult at all." He did a sort of nervous giggle, then messed with the hem of his t-shirt.

B nodded, seemingly pleased with this response (or Mikami's obvious terror, you could never tell which with this guy.)

"Near, thank you so much for getting Matt's contact information."

The little albino freak twirled his stark-white hair around his middle finger and met B square in his violet eyes. "It was really no problem." I swear, Near looks to this guy like some sort of fatherly figure, like a protector instead of a threat. Sick little freak.

"Yes. Now," B stood and started for the door, "you will all find your rewards in your rooms. Mikami, it's your turn again in three hours at the Caged Bird club. Don't be late!~"

As soon as the last sounds of his footsteps disappeared into the house, we let out a collective sigh of relief. Except Near, who was still as unemotional as ever. Like I said, freak.

Mikami and I make our way to our room. Near gets his own room because that little ass-hole is such a b carbon-copy, and since B gets his own room, so does Near.

When we get to our room, Mikami completely ignores his reward (a collection of photographs of a police agent he's been stalking) in favor of curling up under his covers, while I immediately start making excellent use of mine (lots and lots of Hershey bars). Mikami shot a hand out to grab a photo from his reward pile and bring it into his cave for comfort or something.

"Mikami," I stated through a mouthful of chocolate, "Are you just going to cower under the covers every time you interact with B?"

"Maybe, if he keeps being such a creepy weirdo."

I snorted and sat on my own bed. "Mikami, that guy was creepy and weird when he was conceived. Possibly even before that. He stops being weird when you get over that Light guy, so I'd get used to it."

The comforter-blob shifted at the mention of That Name. "Never, never, never associate such a beautiful and perfect being as Kami with such a cast-off of society! Light is-"

"Yeah, yeah. Perfect, beautiful, probably good in the sack, et cetera. You've told me at least 17 times. I get it now.

Mikami sat up in shock. "Not probably good, Mello, definitely!"

"Um, Mikami-"

"Because, I mean, have you _seen_ his muscle structure?"

"Mikami, seriously, I don't-"

"I mean, anybody with legs like that _has_ to be good with his-"

"WOAH, Mikami!" I shouted, covering my ears with one hand and one chocolate bar.

Mikami just looked at me, a mix of innocence and creepy-stalker-gleam in his eyes. "Is something wrong, Mello?"

I just snorted and fell back onto my bed and picked up my book. Mikami just shrugged and laid back down, muttering to himself (or more than likely his photograph).

We sat like that, silent except for the snap of chocolate and rustle of paper form me, and mutterings and sighs from Mikami, for a good long while. Somebody started the washing machine upstairs a while later, but then it was quiet again. A bit after that, B knocked on our door with his childlike _tap-tap tap-tap_, and when we both turned, cooed out, "Mikami, get going! We don't want to be late, now, do we?"

Mikami swallowed and got up, straightening his shirt and walked out, B ruffling his hair on the way. He then turned to me, winked, and said the phrase that always made me shudder.

"And this is where the game gets fun."

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ENTER: CREEPY STALKER: B.

So, yeah. How was that for a longer chapter? Eh? Eh? So B freaks Mikami out. Because he just seems creepier than Mikami, srsly.

{Side Note: I can't think of a title for the newy-version of Secrets. Does anybody have any ideas on what I should call it? If you do, just leave it in a review.}

Reviews feed the plot bunnies!


	4. Step 3: Obtaining the Target

*insert witty pre-story AN here*

I don't own DeathNote, the characters (except for a T-shirt), or MCMB.

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'The Caged Bird'. What a weird name for a club. But you think that's weird, wait until you hear their promo statement: 'Where _YOU_ are the reason the caged bird sings.' Ew. I mean no offense to the girls, but this is a one-way show-and-tell.

And I ain't the one showing.

I walk through the double doors to the club, and all I can think is _Whoa_. Lasers and smoke and strobe lights and ear-throbbingly-pounding techno music, a pool with one of those swim-up bars, private rooms, couches everywhere, people braiding each others' hair, and a bar that looks like Snape's freaking storeroom, the bottles of colorful booze almost falling off the shelves. And the 'birds' are in cages hanging ten feet from the ground. With wings and heels. How do they _do_ that?

I try to head straight for the bar, but Ide grabs the back of my shirt and drags me to a (considerably quieter) private room with some fur-covered yuppies that I'm supposed to forge civil relations with so they'll give us money.

"Oh Mail, darling!" one of them croons fakely, cutting off another yuppie, "How have you been? Is business going well?" I smile at her, as pleasantly as I can while she's breathing caviar and Channel No. 5 up my nose.

"Business is going well, Martha. And I recall requesting that you address me as Matt?"

She laughs, that annoying yuppie-laugh that makes me want to strangle her, "Ohohoho, I'm terribly sorry darling. It slips my mind sometimes," she takes a sip of her crap-yuppie-drink, and turns back to her yuppie friend, beginning a truly un-enthralling conversation about everything nobody gives a shit about.

I turn to Ide, "Please can I go get hammered now? Please? Pleaseplease? Pleeeeeeeeease?"

He rubs his temples and sighs, "Fine. Your pleasant act has proven worthy, so I'll take over this conversation. Go on, go out and get trashed. But harm my image in any way, and you won't be able to hold a camera for days when I'm through with you."

Walking backwards towards the door, I roll my eyes. "Ide, you know how I am when I'm drunk. Nothing'll happen."

As I turn around, I hear him mutter, "That's what you said before you totaled your car."

I was finally at the bar. There was a man passed out over the counter, a couple necking, and a boy sitting alone. Well, curtain number three is the least awkward, so let's go with that one. I sit down and say to the barkeep, "Get me a drink that's right between beer and whatever you gave that guy," pointing to the unconscious man. I hear a snort from next to me while the barkeep goes to get my drink. I glance at the boy I had sat next to. "What?"

He just shakes his head. "That's got to be the most creative way I've heard a drink ordered."

I grin. "Well, I'm a creative guy," I pick up my drink, which has just arrived. Woah, strong. But it's still good. Fruity. I turn to face the guy. Huh. He's maybe a bit cute. (Yeah. I'm gay. The vibrant hair, skinny jeans, and ability to God-freaking _whine_ didn't clue you in on this?) Dark shoulder-length hair, glasses, loose MCMB shirt, college age. I might tap that.

He seems to be sizing me up to about right as well, giving me an appraising up-and-down. He sort of stopps when he gets to my face. "Hey, are you Matt? Like, _the_ Matt?" I nod. Yay, fans! His eyes get wide, "Wow. I mean, I'm a huge fan, being a photography major. The Beijing collection blew my mind." I just smile, and bow, drinking in the praise like the drink I held in my hand. (What? I have _Ide_ as a manager. I get _no_ praise.)

"Well, you're in luck. In a few days, I'm leaving for Vienna. You probably know that, if you read my blog."

He nods eagerly, "Yeah, I read it. Vienna's supposed to be really pretty, can't wait to see what you do with it."

I just laugh and take another drink. Wait a second. That tasted different than before. I look into my drink. It _looks_ the same. I try it again, but it tastes okay this time. I put it off to my imagination and slowly finish it off during my conversation with the boy, whose name I learn is Teru Mikami. By the time I get done with my drink, my head is spinning, and Teru's words are really garbled, like I'm underwater.

"Hey man," I drone out, starting to get up, "I gotta use the... um... facilities, I'll... Be back." I try to walk correctly but my feet won't cooperate, and I almost fall twice. I fall through the door and grasp a sink for support. I look in the mirror, and it looks like one from a funhouse. The door to the bathroom slams open. I spin quickly-too quickly. I fall. I get up and stagger to the doorframe, looking left, nobody there, and right towards the end of the hall. Why is there a camera out there? Why is it pointing directly at me? I stumble to it, freaked as hell. The view is pointed towards me, and I see a twisted image of myself. And somebody walking towards me. Wait.

I spin to face them. A hand darts to the back of my neck, and a wet cloth is trapped over my nose. I hold my breath for as long as possible staring my attacker in the face, but give out and let the world drown out around the fast-fading face of Teru Mikami.

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Yay, Matt got kidnapped! *shot*

Wow, this took forever to write. Granted I'm working on 4 other stories and enough homework to make the devil himself's jaw drop to the center of the Earth, but this still took forever.

Reviews feed the plot bunnies!


	5. Step 4: Bringing Home The New Kid

Yay, chapter 5. I actually finished this a week-ish ago, but I sorta got restricted from the computer, so you see how that makes posting difficult. Anyways, enjoy.

BeeTeeDubz, I don't own Death Note, Mello, Matt, Mikami, BB, or anything but their imaginary house. And my first amendment right. :B

Chapter 5: Bringing Home The New Kid

When Mikami calls me out to help carry Matt in, I'm surprised by what I see. Mat is, dare I say, beautiful. Sure, I'd seen him in the photographs and surveillance, but never this close and never this relaxed. He was more often than not on the phone in the surveillance, and that always seems to make him agitated. But like this; wow. His hair is so bright! I never expected it would be so vibrant! I find myself if it's natural. But such musings are interrupted by a snap right in front of my face.

"Houston to Mello! Come in Mello!" I blink and raise an eyebrow at Mikami. He smirks back. "Well? Are you gonna bring him in, or let him wake up and scream? You can gawk when you get your room." My face heats up to about the color of Matt's hair, and I pick said boy up. _Bridal style..._ some random part of my brain supplies helpfully. _Yeah, thanks for making this go from tolerable to awkward, brain._

I carry Matt through the house-with the Creepy BB Stare of Approval following me the entire time-down the set of spiral stairs in the back, and to his new living quarters. The same ones that have been occupied by so many others that never got out. I suddenly don't want Matt in here. This was a death room. A beautiful boy like Matt shouldn't be in an ugly room like this.

A shove to my back that made Matt's head fall on my chest in a blush-inducing manner told me that I had stopped moving. "Jesus Mello, quit staring at stuff! That guy's bed is over there." He points to our double-futon-plus-frame 'bed'. It's got pillows and it's comfy, so we aren't _that_ mean to the people we take.

...Okay, so maybe we are. But that's beside the point.

I lay Matt on his bed and pull the sheet up to his chest. I found myself thinking in the back of my mind that I hope he's comfortable when he wakes up. I see Mikami place our welcome note on the futon-side table. As we leave, I look at Matt one more time before I close the door. Now all we have to do is wait.

Yay, OOC Mikami is OOC. I think. I always find myself thinking when I'm writing these that I miss the simplicity of pronouns when writing a story where a majority of the cast are males. *shrug* Occupational hazard, I guess.

Reviews feed the plot bunnies, flames keep me cozy.


	6. Notice

You remember what happened to secrets? Well, it's happening again. With this one. I see it nowadays, a few months after writing it, and it just seems almost embarrassing to have this with my name on it. Sort of like CLAMP with the animes. They really meant well with that, but then it went suck. Granted, that was because of the animators and their acute fascination with plot elongation, but still. I expected something good, and it turned out, let's face it. Kind of bad. It's going to be edited and re-carved. For me this isn't like Secrets, the chips and scratches are too deep. But don't worry, the core is intact. It'll be used in the new carving.

Thank you for your time.


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